


Starlight

by tully



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, [s2 finale spoilers], mentions to other characters I suppose, more fluff because that shit is my lifeblood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:15:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tully/pseuds/tully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[s2 finale spoilers!] Anna has a conversation with the major after helping to stop Abe from making an attempt on his life. From there, both plot and relationship develop (best they can, at least).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Anna didn't know what else to do, so she ran. Around Mary, out the door, and down the hallway, until she stood at the foot of the darkened stairs, her breathing slightly labored.

Once surrounded by the emptiness of the house, she pressed her fingers to her mouth. How could he? She thought. How could he abandon her and then expect her to corroborate the murder of the last friend she had on this damned island, just to save his own skin? She knew then; she hated Abe. Something she had been suppressing in her finally burst like a vein, and flowed freely in her heart. She resented him. There were no two ways about it anymore.

Whitehall was silent save for the muffled crackling of flames behind the closed door opposite her; inside she could hear the distant scratching of a pen etching its way across paper. Slightly detached, she realized who the occupant would be; Abe's words echoed in her head. The bastard. How had he managed to voice something before she'd properly realized it herself?

She needed to see him, before her mind began consuming itself. She took a deep breath, wiped at her eyes, she knocked softly on the door. 

"Come in," called the voice of her friend, sending threads of relief weaving through her blood. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. She pushed open the door, where the major was sitting with his back to the entrance, facing the warm fire, his head bent primly over his work. She watched him dot something with a final flourish and turn to face his visitor.

"Mrs. Strong," he said, with some bewilderment. "What a--what a lovely surprise. Please, come in."

Anna did so, closing the door carefully behind her, and took a few hesitant steps forward. Hewlett recognized the discord of her expression with a slightly furrowed brow, but being the gentleman he was, first offered her a seat. She took it, opposite his desk, her back at an angle to the fire. Hewlett carefully put down his pen and slid his work aside with his fingertips, placing folded hands on the newly bare surface. He studied her with slight concern. "Is everything all right, Mrs. Strong?"

"Anna," she blurted, finally meeting his eye. "Anna is fine."

He looked a little startled, but pleased nonetheless. He continued carefully, cautious of treading on vulnerable grounds. "All right, Anna, then. Clearly something troubles you. Might I ask what that is?"

Anna exhaled slightly, returning her gaze to her lap. "I've come to tell you how much your friendship means to me."

She did not raise her eyes as she said this, but she could sense the flustered soul opposite her grapple for a coherent response; she smiled very slightly at this thought. 

"Well, I--I'm very glad to hear it," stammered Hewlett, unsure of how to begin. "But I--I must say I'm a tad, ah, confused. Why, pray tell--?"

"Abraham has... changed." She said quietly. "He went to New York as someone I was losing familiarity with, and came back as someone I no longer recognize. I have no hope of understanding him anymore." She bit her lip.

The major made a noise of sympathy. "But that is understandable, no? The man has endured quite a lot. It is to be expected that he take some time to find himself again."

"You have endured a lot, too. And you have not turned your back on me."

A pause. "Well, of course not. My experiences, however dark, should not affect those around me." He inhaled a little. "That is for me alone to make peace with."

Anna shook her head, grinning now. "You see? You are the same kindly person I knew before you were taken. You are aware of how you treat others; you consider their feelings first, no matter what you have suffered." She swallowed with some difficulty. "The Abraham I used to know was the same way. He's not anymore."

"Come, my dear, you mustn't lose hope. You've known Abraham for the better part of your life. If he is truly a friend of yours, he will come 'round. I know he will."

The tears were coming now, and she couldn't stop them. The major's sympathy alone was enough to put a crack in the dam she had been careful to set up; his kindness was all she needed to lose control of herself. Making an effort to steady her voice, she said, "I don't think he will."

"Oh, dear." Muttered Hewlett, pulling a neatly folded handkerchief from his jacket pocket and handing it to her. "I'm sorry, Anna. Truly, I am. I wish there were something I could do to help."

Anna dabbed at her eyes. "But you are. You have been." She made an effort to meet his eyes, which were filled to the brim with honest concern and sympathy, and wanted nothing more than to embrace him, right that second, for his sake rather than hers. "Edmund, while everyone else has disregarded me, or gone on without me... you've stayed. You're a constant in a circle of shifting ties." She tried to smile. "And Abe said something to me that I had failed to realize until now."

The major looked afraid he might break something. "He did...?"

"Yes." Anna reached slowly across the gap between them to take one of his hands in hers. He seemed rather frozen with alarm, but did not resist. "He reminded me that... you are my friend, the last true friend I seem to have. You've been... so kind to me, and so courteous. And I will not compromise you for the selfish interests of another."

There was silence for a moment, with the flames hissing behind her, spreading warmth along her spine. Then, almost thoughtfully, the major turned his hand so it cupped hers more tightly, and took her free hand with the other. He met her eyes, though he seemed almost bashful to do so. "My dear," he said. "Your companionship means more to me than you can imagine. Nothing could make me more pleased than to hear it makes you feel cared for."

"Of course it does," she said. "I only wonder what I have done that made me deserve it."

He scoffed very lightly, as though the idea baffled him entirely. "You are yourself, Anna, and that is all that matters. Trust me."

"I do."

The silence of the house surrounded them, and the glow in Anna's chest filled her torso to its fringes. She felt safe here; she felt secure, she felt thought after. It had been so long since she had experienced these things that she reveled in him as the fire's heat stained her neck. 

"Stay with me a while, if you like," said the major finally, still holding her hands in his. She gave them a squeeze. 

"I will." She responded. "Thank you, Edmund."

He offered her a very soft smile. "It is my pleasure, Mrs. Strong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this hasn't gotten /quite/ romantic yet, but I plan to build to it... now that that last episode basically canonized their relationship I plan to fill the space b/t seasons so stay tuned!
> 
> tribute to these cuties and the twitter turn squad <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hewlett finally gets to mourn his horse properly.

The night air was brisk; Anna appreciated the way it felt on her upturned face. The soft rambling of the Sound drifted toward the pair behind the telescope and filled the space pleasantly around them.

The stars were beautiful tonight. Anna could not keep from grinning at the glimmering sight above her head; the impossibly dark, gaping mouth of the night sky threatened to swallow her in all her troubled consciousness. She almost wished it would.

"Ah!" came the enthused voice beside her. "Just to your right, there, you can see the wings of Cygnus. Terribly beautiful, don't you think?"

'Terribly beautiful' was just the name for it. "He's lovely," replied Anna softly. 

The major was now fixing his eye to the narrow end of the telescope, adjusting the magnification with meticulous precision. While he fiddled, Anna cast her eyes further left of the swan, squinting to make out other pictures in the sky.

"Major," she said.

"Hmm?" he responded, a little distractedly. He was still fiddling about with the telescope.

"To the left, there--I could be wrong, but isn't that Andromeda?"

The major looked up from his work and took a step closer to her so he could better see from her perspective. "So it is!" he cried, turning to beam at her. "Brilliant find, Anna. I hadn't spotted her yet."

She smiled back at him, tearing her eyes from the light show in the sky for a moment to do so. 

She managed to catch his eye just before he turned back to look at the cold, white pinpricks of light above them. She watched as his smile faded a little. 

"Ah," he said. "And that means just west of her is pegasus." He leaned a little toward her, moving his hand accordingly to point out the termini of the winged horse. 

"He rather takes up a lot of the sky, don't you think?" pondered Anna aloud, her eyes cast upward at the constellation.

"Yes," responded Hewlett quietly. "Yes, he does."

Sensing the shift in his mood, Anna turned her gaze toward him. He looked somber, now, his eyes glazed over with an echo of sadness. 

She touched his arm lightly. "Edmund?"

The major sighed a little, holding his hands behind his back. "I'm just thinking of Beaucephalus," he said. "He was such a magnificent horse, you know."

Brief memories of a dappled white stallion filled her head, standing serenely in the background of the major in his office, where she had visited so many times previously to plead for his help. The fact that the major had kept a horse in his office at all had been a little strange to her, so the memory had stuck around.

"I remember him. He was beautiful." She gave his arm a little squeeze. "Has he... has he passed?"

The major looked hard at the ground now, avoiding her gaze. "Yes... but not by any hand of nature's. That... demon Simcoe poisoned him when my back was turned, in an attempt to frame the late Brewster for enmity supposedly directed at me."

"Simcoe? Simcoe killed your horse?" Her previously serene face was clouded with anger. 

Hewlett glanced at her from the side, not turning his head. "He was a casualty in a war I hadn't even realized had begun. It was my negligence that killed him."

"You mustn't say that," responded Anna firmly, now facing him fully. "Simcoe is a brute who takes out everything in his path. It's not your fault he has no regard for any life, human or animal."

Hewlett, however, was still avoiding her gaze. He exhaled with something like a chuckle. "Anna, you mustn't think I value the life of my horse over the lives of my men... they above all have been forced to sacrifice far too much while this town remains in the clutches of that fiend." He braved a look at her face, and was touched to see a fierce sympathy glowering there. "But you must understand--he was my dearest friend for the longest time." He grinned a little, his eyes shining in the starlight. "You must think me silly."

"Of course I don't," said Anna, taking his hand tightly in hers. "You lost a good friend to that savage. It's perfectly all right for you to mourn him."

They stood for a while in silence, staring out over the river in the distance, where its whispers floated toward them on the night breeze.

The major sniffled beside her; immediately, she turned again to look at him. With a pang of sadness she saw that a few tears had managed to escape, despite her reassurances. Or, she thought, remembering the other night, perhaps because of them. 

"I'm terribly sorry," said Hewlett, dabbing desperately at his eyes with his free hand. "Forgive me-- I haven't had a chance to grieve for him properly, you see--"

"Oh, come here," said Anna, a little gruffly. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, propping her chin on his shoulder. Then, quietly, "It's alright to cry, Edmund."

After a pause (of what she supposed was mild shock), she felt him circle his arms tightly around her shoulders in response. She rubbed his back a little while he cried and rested his face in the crook of her neck. Her heart felt strained; she hadn't realized how difficult it would be for her to see him so upset. The poor fool had been suppressing his loss all this time, and hadn't found a soul to lean on. 

She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but she didn't care--the night air may have been a little bracing, but they kept each other warm for that time. Finally he sighed a little and pulled away, but kept his hands lightly gripping her shoulders. "Thank you, Anna. It seems I owe you for that loss of composure."

"Don't be silly," she said, her brows furrowing slightly. "You're only human, Edmund. Damming up your emotions for so long will do that to you." 

"Oh, but still," he responded, looking a little scornfully at the telescope beside them. "I've soured the evening with my histrionics."

"The night's not over," responded Anna firmly, taking his hand again in hers. "And the stars can wait." 

"Yes," said the major, a little distractedly. "They do for thousands of years at a time..." He cleared his throat. "Now, where were we? I believe I had spotted Pisces just a moment ago..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> credits for the setting all go to my friend bee! she was the mind behind the correlation of pegasus and beaucephalus. also, a bit of the dialogue goes to her as well; it was her idea to clarify the importance of hewlett's mens' lives over that of his horse. thank you, bee ^u^
> 
> this shit is just gusHING out of me I can't even believe it
> 
> I plan to delve a little further into edmund's character before the actual romance, but I promise that's coming soon (and its gonna be super cute)
> 
> thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Character study of the two and their relationship (mainly outside the canon). :^)

Their friendship was comprised largely of long, comfortable silences. 

This was unfamiliar for both of them, who were accustomed to having to supplement the value of a relationship with words and actions and spoken commitments. But they knew each other better now. They were content to be in each other's presence; each felt secure with the other. 

When the major had the time, they would spend hours wordlessly with one another, gazing at the stars or surrounding themselves with the books in the Whitehall library. A low-voiced comment would pass between them here and there, usually where Hewlett would provide an explanation or a breathy, excited pontification between ideas and philosophies, most of which Anna was unfamiliar with. This was a lot of new territory for her, with all the daunting complexities of the humanities and the smiling, gentle presence of a man who was content to simply spend hours of respectful silence by her side. 

And goodness, had she really not noticed it before? His enthusiasm, his tendency to become excited and ramble on about those ideologies and ancient men and dead languages - it touched her heart. She knew no one else like him. He was perhaps the only true gentleman she had met, with the excitement of a child and the mind of a tragically diverted scholar to boot. True, it was hard to pay attention when he gave such long-winded monologues on a field she had no experience with (or interest in), but it made her smile to be able to see the truer side of him. And from the way he glanced shyly at her between intellectual raves, she could tell that he enjoyed seeing her smile.

But even without his cultured tongue on the run, she found a security in his presence. Sometimes they went on long walks in the scraggly forests of Setauket and did not speak at all; and there was a strange juxtaposition to the noisy continuum of the nature that surrounded them and the company of his genuine benevolence and bashful enthusiasm. She had not seen these traits in any other man, not least those of her childhood friends; Abe, who lost himself in his reeling, relentless passion of many faces, Caleb, who could never sit still for long without finding an arbitrary distraction, and Ben, who yearned so much for purpose that he forgot to consider the aftermath of the trail he carved before him. The quiet constancy of the major in comparison was a little startling. 

And the major found himself in a very similar position to his companion. How long had he wished for a friend like the one he found in Anna Strong? Their souls felt so reflective, and he saw in her a steadfast faith in the world around her, a grounded belief in herself and her convictions, that he had found in no one else. Oh, how he could not stop himself from adoring her - she was so motivated in such a headstrong way that he found it hard to place her nature on the spectrum of the other people in his life. 

But they differed significantly, too; he would not dare equate himself with the fearsome tempest that was Anna Strong. She was more battle-hardened, more weathered and sturdy than he could ever hope to be. He did not doubt this woman could fend for herself with a thousand times more conviction than he could ever conjure. She was determined; she was rough around the edges; she was hewn from iron and bone, and unrelenting like the sea. She was fathoms deep, she was largely unexplored; she was all at once powerful and fearsome and beautiful. Such a woman he had never met in his life - no, forget that, no man had could ever compare either. Larger even than his adoration for her was his respect, for he was in the presence of a woman who wore her sins and fears like armor, while he could only seek refuge behind his telescope. If Anna Strong isn't proof of God's good work, he would think, I don't know what is. 

And this was the same woman who, despite not returning his silly, all-consuming, loathsome fondness, could still find it in her heart to take her hand in his; to take on the challenge of tolerating his presence; and construct steadily the growing fortress of her trust in him, stone by stone. And even despite his loyalties and his station here in this little seaside village, she could summon the power to separate his person from his appointed duties. 

"But who did you find that shared all your interests while you lived in England?" she would ask, flipping slowly through The Aeneid in his office.

"I didn't," he would respond, a little embarrassed. "Believe it or not, there weren't many at the age of fourteen who desired to discuss Galileo and the natural order of the universe."

She would glance up at him thoughtfully, back down at the text she was scanning, and back up at him. "I suppose not," she said. Then, parenthetically, "But then, few spend so much time on things that have little to do with them, in the end." 

He could not help but smile then, and admire how the sunlight filtered through her loose hair and crept across her face. "No," he agreed, quietly. "No, they do not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry for the delay in getting this up - I had quite a few events to take care of this week, including my last day of high school and my sister's middle school graduation, so I was a little hard-pressed to find a moment to work on this. Anyway, here is the promised character study; sorry if it seems a little frivolous. I got carried away with how Hewlett tends to talk sometimes and went a little heavy on the imagery.
> 
> Anyway, more of these cuties in less ambiguous circumstances coming up, so don't go away, folks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hewlett's dabbling in mediocre artistry comes to the surface...

"Now, do I have your word that you won't laugh?" said the major, his face contorted with the imminent shame of the next few moments.

"Yes, yes, you have my word," replied Anna. A crooked smile, verging on a smirk, was tugging at her lips. 

The major gave a little sigh. "Oh, alright," he mumbled, and unlocked the door they had paused in front of. 

The door swung open and a sunny little study room was revealed, where canvases and crates lay strewn across the floor; some propped up on easels, some stacked haphazardly in the margins of the room, most covered in old white folds of cloth. The sunlight filtered through the veils of white, white everywhere, giving the room almost a bright emptiness despite its clutter. 

Anna stood, hands folded politely in front of her, in the doorway to that room, and stared around her with an expression of dawning wonder.

She stepped forward into the room, and the major, desperate for something to do while she took everything in, hastily closed the door behind her. 

"I cover them as a precaution against prying eyes," he explained, standing nervously to one side. "I have no doubt these aren't nearly as safe as I would like them to be."

Anna, her steps made heavy by amazement, made her way to the nearest covered easel. She looked up at the fidgeting major. "May I?" 

"Oh, dear, I... yes. Yes, of course you may."

Anna threw back that ghostly canopy, so that it pooled on the hardwood floor below. What she was met with was a dark landscape, a silhouette of a gaunt river islet, veiled in fog beyond visibly choppy waves. 

She felt a childlike delight begin to rise in her. She looked up at Hewlett, grinning widely. "Did you make this?"

"I'm afraid so," blurted the major, still standing stiffly in one corner of the room. "A profoundly messy medium, charcoal is. I think I rather prefer to use oil, when I may..."

Anna trailed her eyes back to that dusky rectangle of a scene, smudged and textured by the roughness of the paper, and knew in an instant that she adored it. 

"Really, it's not one of my better attempts," said Hewlett. "I don't tend to get what I want from any sort of charcoal or lead; paint seems rather more forgiving. It allows you to blend and remove far more easily than--"

He was cut off from his nervous rambling by the fluttering of the coversheet one easel over; then another, then another. One by one, Anna was flinging the cotton from the wooden frames around the room; painting after painting became visible. 

"Anna!" said the major, now blushing visibly. "What are you--"

But by then every standing work had been unmasked, and a multitude of shapes and colors stood on all sides. Anna turned slowly in place, trying to take them all in. Here, she saw a bowl of fruit, swathed in neutral reds in greens; there, she could see what seemed to be a town on the river, its skyline broken by distant steeples and masts of sailboats. 

"They're beautiful," she said, finally turning back to face Hewlett, her arms spread on either side, her smile wide. 

"Oh, do you--do you really think so?"

"We don't have much art here in Setauket," she said, rotating once more to gaze at the canvases that surrounded her. "As I'm sure you can imagine. Oh, these are... these are wonderful!"

Her face was a little flushed from excitement, but it was nothing compared to the major's complexion at that moment; blushing furiously, he struggled to keep her gaze. "Well, I... it's only a hobby," he said. "But--but, ah... thank you, Anna."

As Anna stood there grinning at him, only then did she notice that the major had been standing rigidly in front of another easel, trying to conceal its presence. She cocked her head to one side; Hewlett watched her nervously. "What are you keeping over there?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all--just a rather mediocre study of facial structure, really quite a waste of your time--" But Anna had made her way over by then, picking her way carefully but skillfully through the stacks of wood and cloth, until she stood in front of him. Hewlett's face pleaded with her to let this one remain unseen, but he knew it was a lost cause; when Anna set her mind to something, he was powerless to stop her. 

She laid a hand on his arm. "Come, major. I'm sure it's just as admirable."

She could see his jaw working, fumbling for an answer, while she pushed him lightly to the side. He complied, but looked vaguely ill. With careful fingers, Anna tossed the cloth back from the painting the major had tried so hard to hide. 

It was a woman. Well, a portrait of a woman. Pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes... she stared into some distance outside the frame instead of at her audience, her gaze thoughtful and piercing. Her hair was swept back with a few errant curls framing her face, her neck long and elegant.

Anna kept very still. "Is this... is this me?"

The poor major cleared his throat into his fist before trying to respond. "Well... I... yes." He made an effort to look at her directly. "Do forgive me, Mrs. Strong, but I tend to paint what inspires me, and I simply..."

He trailed off as Anna made no response, her gaze fixed on the contours and shades of her own profile, trying to take it all in at once. The artist had clearly been as painstakingly detailed as possible; even with her untrained eye for artistry, there was an eye for the particular here that was apparent even to her. 

Finally she lowered her eyes and shyly turned them to his. "Thank you."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Tentatively, Anna took his hands and held them, studying them. They were quite close; the major still looked petrified. Around them the silence of the house hung like smoke.

After a time, Anna let go. The major let out a breath he had not known he was holding. He shook himself a little, fighting for composure. "Well, then, Anna," he said, trying to grin. "Shall we have some tea?"

Anna gave him a small smile. "Certainly, Edmund." 

She took his proffered arm and together they left the room. The door locked behind them with a click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay before you say anything it got late today and I was busy at someone's house so this is my way of improvising a more concrete reason to be more intimate b/t these two ;;
> 
> I considered waiting to post this and writing the actual fluff tomorrow, but I did make a promise to update again today, so, alas... I'm not going to drag my feet any longer, though. we've done some real waiting for this and damn it, we're gonna get it
> 
> hang in there, kids


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much takes place right after the last chapter.

Later that evening, as they sat positioned around the dining room table, Anna did not stop smiling. Despite the uneasy presence of the Woodhulls opposite her, she found she could not help it; she kept thinking back to that room of snowy clutter, where someone had been inspired enough to spend all that time and care painting her. Anna glanced once to her left where the major sat at the head of the table, and catching his eye, widened her smile ever so slightly. Now noticeably more composed after the past afternoon, the major returned it warmly over his wine glass. 

Dinner passed with an atmosphere far more pleasant than Anna was accustomed to, and soon the candles were burning low and Mary had left to put Thomas to bed. 

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," said Anna, pushing out of her chair. "I think I'll retire to the library." She nodded once to Hewlett as she rose. Behind her, as she passed through the doorway, she heard Richard ask Hewlett incredulously, "To the library?"

He found her later, when most of the house was dark and the Woodhulls had disappeared into their respective nooks. To his surprise, she was actually reading something without having consulted him first; usually, she brought a book to him and asked his opinion on it before committing to it. Tonight, though, she had made her way partially through what appeared to be a copy of A Treatise of Human Nature. Seeing the title, he began to chuckle to himself.

Anna looked up with a bit of a start. "Oh, I didn't see you," she said. But when Hewlett continued to laugh quietly, a confused smile started to form. "What? What's funny?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," he said, flapping one of his hands. "Do excuse me. Are you enjoying Hume?"

"Who? Oh," said Anna, turning the cover back over. "Yes. I rather like how he looks at the human mind."

"But, Mrs. Strong," said Hewlett, raising his eyebrows in mock astonishment. "I thought philosophy rather clashed with your tastes."

"Some of it," she conceded, directing her gaze back at the tome in her lap and then setting it aside. "This is an interesting study, however. And a bit more..." She cast about for the word.

"Modern?"

"Quite."

The book now placed carefully on the side table, Anna patted the cushion beside her. "Join me?"

"Certainly," he said, gliding over and primly taking a seat. "Now," he said, turning to face her. "Were you thinking of seeing the stars tonight?"

"Yes," she said. The firelight flickered across her face. "But I wondered if we might converse for a moment, just here."

"Of course," he said, shifting his weight to face her better. "What troubles you?"

She lowered her eyes to look at the fire opposite the two of them. "Ah, not so much a trouble. Just... something I've had on my mind."

When she glanced back at him, he was looking at her attentively, head slightly tilted to one side, waiting for her to continue. She smiled and let her head fall. 

"Well... it's..." she took a deep breath, and decided to be direct. "You're... you're my dearest friend, major. And as such, I... I think it's only fair to be honest with you."

"Of course," replied Hewlett, but it was more of a whisper.

"I appreciate all you've done for me," Anna continued, still staring into the hearth. "You've protected me, you've taken me into your home... And I've not met such a kind soul in... well, in quite a while." She trailed off and the major knew she was thinking of her childhood friends. All of them unaccounted for, by now. "You inspire me to, oh, I don't know, live differently. Focus on different things. Be less angry all the time."

Finally, she turned to look at him. He seemed less nervous than she had anticipated; rather, his eyes were full of sympathy, earnest with a quiet understanding. 

She shook her head a little. "Oh, just... why do you do it?"

"Do what?" 

"Why do you care for me?"

He blinked once or twice. "Well, I... you understand, I'm aware it's quite inappropriate, or unorthodox, shall we say, for someone in my position to seek companionship from a lady, but--"

"Stop." She put a hand on his arm. "No more of that. Just tell me the truth."

After a beat, he met her eyes and held them. "Because you're the most marvelous person I've ever met, Anna."

Her heart jumped, painfully. "...Really?"

"Yes. In you, I've found a companion like no one else. You've been put through so much, and have met it with so much courage and strength... I'm sincerely mystified. You know what you want and how you're to go about getting it. You know how to protect yourself and withstand everything. You have such a... such a sharp mind, and you're most probably smarter than most of the men in this township all put together." He looked down at her hand, still resting on his sleeve. "And beside all that, you've seen beyond this red jacket and haughty military posture and found... me." He smiled lightly. "And I could not be more grateful."

There were tears pricking at her eyes, now. "Oh..."

His hand found hers and squeezed it. "Forgive me, Anna, if I've overwhelmed you. But that is the truth you've been asking after. You have my word."

She was shaking her head. "No, no, don't apologize." She sniffed and looked up, where he was looking at her with concern, holding tightly to her hand with both of his. Her chest felt very full and very light at the same time. Suddenly she was very sure of herself and what she wanted to do. 

"Edmund..." she said.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to kiss you," she said. "Is that alright?"

In an instant, he was blushing. "I, ah--that is--"

She did not let him finish. Softly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, and the moment her warm mouth was against his the major felt all his unease melt away. 

He responded gently, as though he were afraid might break her, or sever the moment, or drive her away. A light of some kind was blazing in his heart and his head; the library around him fell away, and all he could feel was Anna, Anna with her lips on his, Anna kissing him. 

She pulled away after a moment, to let them breathe. His hand was on her cheek--he did not remember putting it there--their noses bumped a little. She giggled, feeling giddy and light-headed. The major's eyes were shining in a way she had never seen before. 

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "Was that alright?"

In response, he leaned forward until his forehead touched hers, and rested it there. "I confess, Anna... I have wanted to do that for ages."

"I know," she said softly. She was still holding one of his hands; she intwined their fingers and squeezed a little. "So have I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> folks, it's my very good pleasure to present to you the chapter that now allows this user to post lots of fluffy romantic one-shots just for the heck of it!! hope your kiss quotas haven't been filled yet!
> 
> thanks for all your support leading up to this one, guys. reading your comments is seriously the best part of my day so keep 'em comin :^)
> 
> (IM SO MEH ABOUT HOW THIS TURNED OUT ACTUALLY BUT IT'S STILL CUTE SO IM LIKE DAMN WHATEVER,,,)
> 
> P.S.! "a treatise of human nature" is an actual 18th-century book by david hume and frankly it looks super cool


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hewlett's a little shy about affection and Anna lies to herself.

It became a matter, Anna found, of convincing the major that he was allowed to be closer to her than he was used to. He was endearingly skittish when it came to showing his affections; it was clear he wanted to, Anna knew, and he apologized for it profusely, but he was always shy to initiate anything, lest he violate her in some way. Anna was shockingly unfamiliar with this kind of behavior; all the men who had ever doted after her had been eager, enthusiastic souls, ready to satiate that carnal urge for intimacy at a moment's notice, whenever they could. And while Edmund was anything but dispassionate--she noticed how his eyes seemed positively clouded with adoration when she caught them--he was clearly afraid of putting her off. It made her smile as much as it confused her.

She had to be cautious, of course--she would prefer to avoid tipping off the Woodhulls for as long as she was able--but when she could do so safely, she tried to get him used to her touch. She held his hand more often; when they sat side by side, she made sure they were close enough together to be touching. Gradually, he began to relax, but there was a caution ingrained in his nature she knew she would not be able to circumvent. She also knew that she didn't mind. 

That last night, where Anna had first decided to kiss him, had indeed ended with gazing at stars. "I did say I wanted to see them," she told the major after they had recomposed themselves. "I just had to do that first."

And they huddled together for an hour or two in the biting wintry cold under the same blanket, feeding off one another's warmth, and didn't talk much; neither felt much need. They just allowed these new circumstances to digest, and watched that great gaping mouth of the sky.

They didn't dare spend too long outside Whitehall, though. Richard Woodhull had a habit of staying up till the middle hours of the night and was all too keen to notice anything at all suspicious about her.

When they had voiced that thought to each other, Hewlett had tsked and looked sheepish. "I can't help but feel a bit... responsible," he said to her. "For Richard's behavior at the expense of your comfort. Perhaps it would have saved you some emotional unrest had I not presumed you wanted to come back with me--"

"You were protecting me from Simcoe," Anna pointed out. "Mr. Woodhull's behavior is not your burden to bear." She took his hand, and they left it at that. 

When they had parted at the door that night, under the vigilant watch of the redcoats on the front porch, a vibrant realization thudded to the forefront of her mind, something she had not bothered to consider before she had kissed him. Abe or no Abe, spy ring or no spy ring, she was a patriot at heart. She had done her part for the independence of the country the major was trying so ardently to regain control of. And she didn't regret any of it; she knew where her beliefs lay. And those beliefs clashed with those of the major's, like the patriot blue on the British red.

But she had pushed it aside. Knowing she would have to reckon with it sooner or later, she stored it away. For once in a very long time, she wanted nothing more than to unreservedly adore someone, and while it may be a stretch to call it love, she could feel it growing in her heart for Edmund like ivy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok excuse the imagery but this is obviously some constipated transitional crap that is mostly a product of me trying to stay SOMEWHAT true to the plot of the show, be realistic with the setting, AND keep these cuties in character. aaaaaaa
> 
> tomorrow will be better, though. the next chapter will be at least twice as long and with a lot less "calm before a storm" sentiment polluting everything, ok? promise. :^)
> 
> (I'd say this is mostly a result of my muse bein a little thrown off after seeing my favorite band live a few nights ago. I'm still dealing with the emotional aftermath and my writing voice is somewhat garbled in communicating my actual intentions. thank you guys for hangin in there - I really appreciate your support <3)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna tells Hewlett about the dead Rangers. (Still fluff, technically, I swear. Just plot-oriented fluff.)

"Major," she said. "There is something I should tell you."

"Certainly," he responded. They sat together on the rocky New England shore, where the breeze stuck to their skins like a salty film. Since they were in plain site of the pier, they sat not too close together to avoid drawing attention of the prying eye; but, decidedly out of earshot, they could discuss what they wanted freely. 

Anna, her usual self despite feeling distant and disembodied, wasted no time. "I've killed a man."

The major started. He'd been lost in a bit of a happy daze for the last couple of days, still struggling to accept their unlabeled development in intimacy. Anna, wonderful, dazzling Anna, had kissed him more times in the last few days than he had thought possible in his most far-fetched of fantasies. It was setting him off-center quite a bit.

"Forgive me," he said, turning to her. "You've what?"

She kept her eyes fixed on the gray, lightly choppy waters of the Sound below. The breeze was mussing her free curls slightly, tickling the sides of her face. Despite his shock, the major felt his heart heave a little in his chest; she really did look lovely, like that.

"A few days ago," she said. "Before we--" She caught his eye then, and they both blushed a little. She exhaled something like a humorless laugh. 

"Well, I'm sure you had a perfectly logical reason," he said cautiously. "Were you acting in self-defense?"

"It was... those rangers. The ones missing. They... tried to take advantage of me." She turned to meet his eyes, looking like a tired storm. "So I shot them."

It was not the whole truth, but it might as well have been. Both were dead, at any rate. 

The major took a deep breath. "Are... you alright?"

The question surprised her. "What? Yes, I'm fine. I did what I did to protect myself."

"Of course." The major sounded distracted. "Of course you did."

There was a silence between them, punctuated by the slate waves lapping onshore. Something welled inside Anna and burst to the surface; she took his hand and looked at him pleadingly. "I know what kind of position I've put you in. I had to tell you and put you above the confusion of your men and Simcoe's." 

"Anna," he reminded her. "The pier. We're quite visible."

"Let them look!" she said. His eyes held hers. "Please believe me, Edmund. I had no choice. And I could not lie to you. Not with Simcoe out to murder you."

The major was shaking his head. "Oh, my dear," he said, holding her hand more tightly. "Of course I believe you. You acted for your own safety, and rightly so. Those men are all bloody fiends." The last word was thickened with disgust. Anna then realized he had gone silent not because of anything she had done; the cold rage on his face was pronounced, now, and she knew why.

"I will destroy that man," he said, looking down at their joined hands. "God as my witness, Anna, I will not let him win."

"I know that. But Edmund, hear me. I'm alright now, I promise."

When the hard fury in his eyes remained, she brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed it, lightly. "I'm alright," she repeated.

His expression softened, a little. He looked at her again. "I know," he said. "I wish I had been there."

She did not respond to that, because there was nothing she could say. 

"My apologies," said the major after a while. He still held her hand. "You've given me a vital advantage in this sadistic game of Simcoe's. I am in your debt."

"I know," said Anna, daring to smile. "Now that you know the truth at the heart of the conflict, you might be able to catch him off guard. Especially now that Akinbode's out of the way for a while. I except at least the next couple of days."

"True," mused the major, "but we mustn't make too many assumptions, Anna, my dear. This demon never plays by the rules, and he certainly doesn't wait out of courtesy for his opponent to make a move." He sighed then, and flicked his eyes upward to hers. "It pains me to ask, but... what did you do with the, ah, corpses?"

"They went into the river." 

"Ah," said Hewlett. "No use to us, then." He thumbed her knuckles thoughtfully. "I can only continue to contain this conflict for so long. If we can distract this monster long enough to break this battle out of its restraints, we may have a chance." He looked at her. "We have to bring this crusade outside Setauket."

"And how do we do that?" asked Anna, her brows furrowed. 

The major was pensive. Gulls squawked above their heads. "Young Abraham may have an answer or two for us in that respect." He turned to look at her, shaking his head slightly. "I"m sorry. We shouldn't discuss this. This must be upsetting enough for you as it is."

"Don't apologize," said Anna, looking at him gravely. "You'd be surprised what I can stand."

For the first time in a while, the major smiled. "No, I'm sure I wouldn't. If anyone can be unfailingly resilient, Anna, it's you."

She smiled at him, bright and warm and intact. "It's sweet, though, that you worry," she teased.

He chuckled. "That is something you may have to get used to, I'm afraid."

"I don't mind."

They sat for a while, heads full and heavy, but glad to be in this pocket of salty solace. 

"We will win this game, you know," she told him. "Of Simcoe's."

He looked at her, her stubborn expression, her determined tone, and had no doubt. "With you here, Anna, I am sure we will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly y'all I'm kinda a tired and spacey but my muse is comin back to me so hopefully this was a little better than the last one
> 
> I realize making their relationship so heavily hypothetical as far as the plotline goes beyond season 2 is something that?? some of you may not be a fan of?? so I'm sorry about that but I don't know how else substantiate the chronology for this 
> 
> I plan on keepin em cute tho so. don't think that shit's going away because it's not
> 
> thank you again for reading and bearing with me !!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember that time Corporal Eastin got shot? Yeah.

Though he worried for her safety with the tyrant rangers infesting the town, he was unable to check on her during the day. He wanted to; but from his steeple on the hill, his white enclosure of posterity, he could do nothing. He kept his men on constant alert, asserting that they let him know anything they saw, no matter how perceivably small. Luckily, his increase in paranoia went largely unnoticed--the redcoats and the rangers were openly wary of each other, like two rival dog packs, each trying to herd each other into the kill zone before the other got the chance. It diluted whatever impact Hewlett's increased concern made by fathoms. In fact, given the rising hostility, it seemed entirely appropriate.

Fortunately, with his right hand man out of the picture for the moment, Simcoe could do little on the front lines. Passivity and politics were not exactly his forte; sooner or later he would be able to hold off on bloodshed no longer. Hewlett could hold out all he wanted--Simcoe was not a patient man, and he had no reservations about satiating his temper when his patience finally ran out. I am willing to do what you are not.

And so Hewlett, his heart ballooned in anxiety--for his men, for Setauket, for lovely Anna--sat atop that hill and waited for the fragile moment of inaction to shatter. 

It did not take long; Eastin's corpse showed up early the next morning with the local patrolmen, shot twice, already beginning to decay.

~::~ 

Anna did not get the chance to see him until later that evening. Some stroke of good fortune allowed for the house to be still and empty that hour, so that when he stumbled through doorway of the library, where she waited, nothing stopped her from reacting immediately. 

His regarded her dully as she sat, suddenly ramrod straight in her chair, a book half-open in her lap. "He..." The major swallowed and tried again. "Dear God, Anna. The demon has done it again."

She rose quickly, disregarding the book that clattered to the floor. In a moment she was in front of him, and taking his face in her hands. "Edmund," she said. "Edmund, look at me."

His eyes rose, glazed and solemn, to meet hers. 

"Whatever happened, and I know this for a fact, it was not your fault."

"They're my responsibility, Anna," he intoned. "A death of one of my men is my burden to bear, as their leader."

"No," she said, running her thumbs across his cheekbones. "Your men are soldiers. They put their lives on the line for their country, and not on your orders."

He seemed so much smaller and slumped than usual. Smaller, and thoroughly exhausted. It was wrenching her heart in all sorts of wrong directions. 

"How many more, Anna?" he said. "How many more until he's satisfied?"

Gently, she guided his face to hers, and kissed him very softly. When she withdrew, she said, "You mustn't place the blame of that monster's actions upon yourself. Your heart is purer than his ever will be, and that's why his defeat is assured, one way or another."

He closed his eyes, exhaled, touched his forehead to hers. His hands had risen to rest lightly on her waist when she had kissed him. "You are truly to be my strength in this whole affair, it seems," he breathed. 

"Fine," replied Anna. "Together, then." She leaned her head back slightly so she could smile at him. "You said we need to bring this conflict outside of Setauket. Get someone on the outside. Who did you have in mind?"

"A major John Andre needs to be notified of his protege's recent behavior," he said, rather sardonically. "And I shall have to speak to the young Abraham, though I haven't seen him recently. That, at least, will give us a start."

Anna shifted her hands from his face down to his elbows thoughtfully, ignoring the second proposition. "There is...something else we can do to give us an advantage," she said. "But..."

"Absolutely not," said the major briskly. "I will not release you to the whims of that monster to serve our own interests. There must be another way."

"You know there isn't. Edmund, please think about it. I've fooled him before, I can fool him again."

"Anna, you underestimate that man's cunning. It's too obvious after you clearly chose to retreat twice under my protection. And although I suppose you hardly require it, I won't give my approval for this. I can't." 

His look was pleading; though she was mildly frustrated, she could see his point. "Look," she said. "If convincing him of romantic feelings on my part is off the table, you know he believes you to be... a man of weakness. If I claim to want his protection when you clash with his men--and you will--it will seem perfectly reasonable to him." She lowered her eyes and suppressed a shudder. "And whatever he chooses to believe of me, his obsession isn't gone. I know it isn't."

He was shaking his head. "Anna, although I have no doubt in my mind you can protect yourself without my assistance, you'd be putting your life at stake. I can't... I don't..." He couldn't seem to finish. 

"You won't lose me," she said firmly. "I promise you."

He sighed. "You can't promise me that," he said. "But I can't stop you."

She smiled at him a little. "No, I'm afraid not." A pause. "I'm sorry, Edmund. But it's the only option I see for us, and we don't have the time to deliberate."

"I know." He shifted to grasp her hands in his. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BLUH
> 
> so apparently this cute fluffy oneshot is turning into a full on plot-oriented story?? although I'm not including nearly enough details about the rest of the cast to do that legitimately?? help
> 
> (but also thank you for reading i hope you all are having a wonderful day/night)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The author's attempt to smooth out this kink in the hypothetical plot. (aka, Remember When Rogers Changed Loyalties?)

The major was constantly agitated with Anna now entering Simcoe's perverse realm on a regular basis. If his men had found him uptight before, it must have been nothing to his behavior now. Voluntarily there though she may be, he could not bring himself to relax. Quite frankly, he didn't know what he would do with himself if anything happened to her, and at the hands of that monster, no less; the hypothetical weighed heavily on his soul as he went about his day, without even his favorite horse to soothe him. 

Rather predictably, re-submersing herself in the world of the Queen's Rangers hadn't taken much effort. Simcoe had been standoff-ish at first--a kind of fake offense she recognized, by this point--but her excuses were apparently good enough for him, even after her multiple betrayals. The idea of having a pair of eyes with such a convincing cover residing in Hewlett's main base clearly excited him, even if her attempts at "romantic" advances didn't.When she had come home to Whitehall that night to Hewlett and told him the news, her eyes were sharp with a kind of frantic excitement, and though she was smiling and glad to tell him of her success, he could see she was shaken at the idea of working under that nightmare again. He had held her hand tightly and reminded her that she could still back out, that the fear she felt was only to be expected around a demon like Simcoe, but even while the anxiety swam in her eyes, he knew already she had made up her mind. 

The next order of business, they decided, would be to take advantage of the absence of Akinbode and the explosive animosity between Hewlett's men and Simcoe's. "What shall I tell him?" Anna had asked, late that night when neither could sleep and the house was silent. "I can't very well give him any _truly useful information_ \--he'd simply take it and run. And false information would just make him suspicious."

"No, certainly not," responded the major, as soothingly as he could manage. "I'm still struggling to coordinate with Major Andre, but I shan't give up. Besides, my dear, he won't be expecting valuable information right away. We shall keep up appearances and wait for God to play his hand."

A hand was played, as it turned out, but one neither could have suspected; the next day, she was approached by Abe for the first time in nearly five days. It was startling to Anna, who had been too distracted to notice that he had been scarce around Whitehall lately; so when he cornered her on the path just inside the manor's surrounding forest, she nearly screamed. 

"You _bastard_ ," she said after he grabbed her from behind.

"Sorry, sorry," said Abe, sounding slightly raspy. "Keep it down, though, will you? We can't be seen yet."

"Yes, _Abraham_ , whatever can I do for you?"

He gave her a look. "Easy. I've just come to tell you there's a new player."

She nearly turned around and walked away just then. "A new player."

"Yes. Former Queen's Ranger, as of a few weeks ago, give or take. Something big must've happened because he was very eager to shift loyalties all of a sudden."

Now Anna was paying attention. "Ranger? How long was he a ranger?"

"Oh, at least a few decades," responded Abe, distractedly running a hand along the back of his neck. "He won't tell me why he's changed his mind. Doesn't like talking about his mistakes, I s'pose." He let out a hoarse laugh.

It was then Anna's eyes picked out the ugly ring of purple around his throat. Subconsciously, she reached out to touch it. "Abe... what is this?"

"Oh, this," said Abe, his voice cracking a little. He turned his head so she couldn't reach him. "Our new friend's way of saying hello, apparently. You'll like him, I'm sure."

Anna, however, had gotten what she wanted from that exchange. "I have to go."

"Anna! Wait," Abe called after her. Reluctantly, she stopped, but did not turn around. "What are you doing?"

She did not respond. He took a few strides so he was facing her and took her by the shoulders. "Anna, I haven't seen you in _days_ ," he said. "Are you alright?"

"Perfectly," she said, and tried to step around him. 

"Because if it's about those Rangers, I promise they've been taken care of. You can trust Caleb."

"Oh, will you just be quiet?" She brushed him aside and exited the woods.

She waited for the major to return that Saturday night, restless, feeling like she was caught adrift in a tide and wasn't strong enough to swim to shore. She took supper in her room, not exactly willing to see the Woodhulls at a moment like this. When the house was finally still, she knocked quietly on his door and entered in a bit of a daze.

"Anna," he said, rising from his desk and coming briskly to her side. "Is everything all right?" In a flash, his face became very grim. "Was it Simcoe? Did he--"

"No, no," said Anna, waving him off lightly and sniffing. "I saw... Abraham."

"...Ah." Gently, he took her elbow and lead her to the settee by the fire. "Sit," he ordered. When she had done so, he took his place next to her. "I am... quite sorry you had to endure that. I know it must have been a bit... raw."

She gave a heavy chuckle. "Quite." She took a moment to appreciate the earnest concern of his expression--she had not quite gotten used to it yet--and could grin a little for the first time that afternoon. "But he may have unwittingly given us an invaluable advantage over our friends in green."

The major's eyebrows puckered. "Pray tell."

"It seems..." Anna fiddled with one of his hands, distant. "It seems we a former Ranger has entered our little game." Her eyes rose to meet his. "And he could be the end to all this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry about the delay on this one. I was away camping and then went into the city to go see Heather Lind in her play off-broadway the other night, so I've been a little busy, but I'm back for now!
> 
> I'm gonna need some constructive criticism on this one. dunno if my intentions are utterly clear; obviously Rogers has no reason to give up his identity as a new member of the Culper Ring to Hewlett, but he does have a reputation to gain/silence to ensure by keeping the Queen's Rangers a bit more disciplined than they are currently. who's more qualified to help them, anyway??
> 
> (it's probably gonna backfire.)
> 
> anyway, hope to get more actual fluff in here soon. i have a pretty good idea of how to do that so no worries
> 
> thanks for reading everyone!!!


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